


elevator pitch

by triangularium



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Business AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Pining, nerdy white-collar workers are nerdy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triangularium/pseuds/triangularium
Summary: el • e • va • tor pitch: a brief speech that outlines an idea for a product, service, or project... from the notion that the speech should be delivered in the short time period of an elevator ride, usually 20-60 seconds (fromInvestopedia)According to the office rumor mill, Oikawa Tooru from sales has a one-sided crush on Iwaizumi Hajime from IT. When the two find themselves taking the elevator together one day, Oikawa leaps at the chance to demonstrate his marketing skills... and advertise his boyfriend potential.





	elevator pitch

**Author's Note:**

> a.k.a. how Oikawa does everything wrong but Iwaizumi decides to try dating him anyway :)
> 
> Hopefully, Oikawa's not too OOC here... this is my take on how he'd react to the prospect of being in an elevator alone with his crush if he and Iwaizumi hadn't been childhood friends.

The bell dings before the doors roll open at Floor 12 -- IT headquarters. Oikawa takes a deep breath, passes a hand lightly over his gelled hair, and runs the plan through in his head. Go in, hold a normal conversation for sixty seconds, go out. It shouldn’t be too hard. He’s rehearsed with Makki and Mattsun. Even though they’ve consistently refused to take his idea seriously (read: they clutched their stomachs and laughed like loons the first time they heard), they did eventually go along with it and promise that Iwaizumi would be outside the elevator at precisely 12:15 P.M. on his way to a lunch break.

It’s game time.

Iwaizumi appears more formally dressed than usual, and he’s carrying a thin stack of index cards. He looks like he’s been shifting around nervously and stops whistling as Oikawa, leaning against the metal rail at the back, comes into view. A shame. Oikawa rather likes Casual Whistling Iwaizumi. He moves aside, fighting the urge to fidget like a teenager asking out his prom date, and Iwaizumi makes a beeline for the other corner of the elevator.

No one else gets on. The doors close.

Sixty.

Oikawa clears his throat as Iwaizumi shuffles through his cards. Perhaps he’s going to present something for one of his superiors? Maybe Oikawa shouldn’t be bothering him -- he knows what it’s like to be unprepared at the last moment. No -- Makki and Mattsun went to all this trouble to orchestrate this moment. He has to seize it! These precious few one-on-one moments with Iwaizumi might be the last direct encounter they have together, aside from stiff company parties in which everyone exchanges pleasantries and nothing is private.

He fortifies himself and turns to face Iwaizumi, who also looks like he’s mustering up the courage to say something.

“Hello! I’m Oikawa Tooru!” he starts, a bright, false salesman smile pasted across his face. It’s the same face Makki called his trashy expression and told him to avoid. _Oh, no, I’m messing up already._ Before he can panic further, he leans in, shakes a gobsmacked Iwaizumi’s hand vigorously, and continues. “I’m a marketing director in the sales department on Floor 16.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you --,” Iwaizumi’s snort is a cute and wholly unnecessary interruption, but Oikawa soldiers through (never let it be said that Oikawa Tooru is a quitter), “-- and I hope to get the chance to know you better in any capacity -- an acquaintance, a friend, or possibly even a boyfriend. Actually, mostly the last one!”

He checks himself, cringing inwardly in horror. He might as well have said that he wanted to marry Iwaizumi, and they haven’t even had a balanced conversation yet! Deep down, the self-conscious aspect of Oikawa is huddled in a corner, the most humiliated he’s been since forgetting the rest of his speech for a project in middle school. What is it about Iwaizumi that takes him back to being a hormonal, angst-ridden teenager, gangly and constantly stumbling over his words, never sure what to do with the butterflies in his stomach?

“I’ve been in a couple of relationships, and I’ve noticed that a major cause of strife was a fundamental incompatibility.” _What am I talking about? How many girlfriends have I had? Two. And one boyfriend? Am I even in a position to be gallivanting around calling myself an expert on this topic?_

“Luckily, preliminary observations yield favorable results -- we appear to have the same sense of humor. During last Friday’s informal movie night, we laughed at the same parts.” Oikawa valiantly combs his memories for the movie name. All he recalls is the soft gleam of Iwaizumi’s skin under the tubelights, his scruffy yet strangely appealing five o’clock shadow, and his quiet chuckles, face scrunching up in amusement as crow’s feet formed around his eyes. He smiles briefly in remembrance before he blinks up at the display -- Floor 6. He doesn’t have much time.

He’s just glad his prank-loving friends have -- for once -- done their jobs and created a distraction to prevent others from using the elevator for a few minutes. He would have been mortified if anyone could see him this way -- flustered and so unlike his professional countenance. At least even if Iwaizumi rejects him (a possibility that’s seeming increasingly likely by the moment), he doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who would spread embarrassing stories about Oikawa’s awkwardness later.

“We’re both hardworking and ambitious, but besides these qualities, I understand my priorities, and how best to leverage them to manage my time.” _Cheesy, but it’ll do._ “Some days, I’m developing a branding strategy or stressed from liasing with the press. Most of the time when you walk into the dining hall, your laptop’s tucked under your arm and you listen to music and program the entire time.” _Great going, Oikawa, now you sound like a stalker. Or worse -- a petulant child._ “We have big dreams.”

Floor 4. Oikawa speaks faster.

“You have the most beautiful green eyes. I mean, obviously, my eyes are beautiful, too --,” _Abort, abort, abort_ , “-- but I see yours more often than I do mine. Also,” he says desperately, “I minored in computer science, so you could ramble to me about cool projects you’re working on and I’d understand. To some extent.”

“I’ve been told I’m not a romantic. But I feel happier whenever I see you, whether you’re smiling or sneezing or staring out the window at the city lights, thinking. Normal things, like drinking coffee. Once, you mentioned to me at an in-office event that you loved to dance. I knew how to, but I was too anxious to ask you.” _I’m so stupidly sentimental. Here goes. What’s the worst he can say?_ “I want to make you smile. I want to learn... from you. With you. You’re an amazing person, and for a very long time, I’ve been just watching. At a distance.”

The ground floor. For a moment, all is still. Suspended.

Oikawa finally looks Iwaizumi in the eye cautiously, slightly afraid of what he’ll find. Judgment? Ridicule? Scorn? Something indefinable is stirring within those murky depths. He trudges onward wearily, slipping his business card out of the right pocket of his slacks, holding it out. _Might as well._

“So, I ask you, Iwa-chan, will you come to lunch with me?”

The doors slide away from each other, and the sunlight angling into the lobby forms a thick stripe of yellow-white across the carpet, brushing over Iwaizumi’s spiky hair and the bridge of Oikawa’s nose. A myriad emotions flit across the other man’s face, and Oikawa identifies amusement, affront, and relief before Iwaizumi tucks the cards away and smirks.

“Okay.”

He walks out of the elevator and a few steps into the largely deserted reception before turning around and placing his hand on the side to keep the doors from closing.

“You coming or not? I thought you were intending to give me more compliments over some agedashi tofu.”

Oikawa stares. Behind the scenes, Tooru.exe is reloading. _Wait, did it actually work?_

“People might say you’re scarily intimidating and eerily good at reading people, but you’re actually just a gigantic dork, aren’t you?” Iwaizumi says, with something close to affection coloring his words. Emerging, Oikawa dares to hope.

“Also, ‘Iwa-chan’? I hope that doesn’t become a thing.”

“Of course not, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa replies lightly, and Iwaizumi’s ensuing sigh follows him into the brightness beyond the revolving doors.

***

_Floor 12_

“Do you have the surveillance tapes, Makki?” Mattsun asks, tilting back in his chair and fiddling idly with the Dalek figurine on his desk.

Makki snickers, walking over with his laptop and setting it down before flipping the screen open and logging in with a flourish.

“It wasn’t too difficult... security isn’t tight if you already have internal access.”

“Oh, my, this is better than I could ever have imagined.”

“Yeah, think of the level of blackmail material... how many cream puffs do you think we could weasel out of Oikawa to keep this quiet?”

Mattsun laughs. “I think we’re in this for the long game. Let’s save the video for the marriage ceremony.”

**Author's Note:**

> My head canons for this AU :P  
> \- Iwa wins the all the unofficial office arm wrestling competitions  
> \- Iwa was going to confess to Oiks in a more ... traditional ... manner before Oiks beat him to the punch  
> \- Mattsun and Makki do indeed save the video until the wedding, and Oiks turns a new shade of red rewatching it  
> \- None of them played volleyball in hs, but they could have if they wanted to. They're all surprisingly athletic  
> \- Oiks has an office fan club  
> \- they all live happily ever after <3 *Iwa yells "Kuso Oikawa" in the distance. Oiks ducks*


End file.
